the broken

Chapter 29

MAY, 2009

Dan

I sit quietly on the bed, legs swinging back and forth as I watch Phil hurry around the room, throwing clothes into a bag, transfixed by every movement as if Phil were a spectacle that I couldn't afford to miss. And I guess, in a way, he is. Phil is a technicolor movie and I can't tear myself away. He flicks a strand of hair out of his eyes and my eyes follow the movement as if my life depends on it. He is such a beautiful human being, I don't even understand how the laws of physics even allow it. Honestly. Phil tilts his head towards me, catching me staring at him, and my cheeks turn pink, but Phil just laughs and continues to throw a mix of his and my shirts into the bag.

Today is the day I get to leave hospital and my blood buzzes with excitement, more than ready to breathe real air, see the sunsets and the stars, sleep in a real bed again. I am so so tired of the endless white and that antiseptic smell that has been burning brain cells straight out of my head. Phil collapses onto the bed next to me and I lean my head on his shoulder as a quiet huff of air puffs from his lips, obviously exhausted. His hand winds into mine, running his thumb over the skin on the back of my hand soothingly.

Phil babbles on about how excited he is to get me out of here, and I bite my lip. All I want is to be happy for Phil, but what if I'm not, what if this is temporary and as soon as we leave I get bad again, what if nothing is actually better? But instead of voicing all this, I just nod, still leaning on Phil's shoulder, breathing in, letting the smell of his raspberry body wash soothe me, letting his cool hands reassure me.

All of a sudden, Phil grabs my hand and pulls me up excitedly, and a little giggle slips out of my lips.

"Okay, okay, what's the big rush?"

Phil practically bounces down the hall towards the reception desk.

"I have a surprise for you!"

"Oh?"

We arrive at the desk, but Phil doesn't answer as he turns his attention briefly to the grumpy looking woman behind the desk.

"May I help you?" she says grouchily, but Phil just gives her a dazzling smile, one where his eyes crinkle up. He looks so pretty when he smiles.

"We just need to check my boyfriend out," he says politely, and I smile softly when I remember that that's me.

"Hmph. Name, please."

"Dan Howell."

The woman types for a minute before looking up and unenthusiastically tells us we're free to go. Phil stays quiet as we walk out, but as soon as we're out of the front door, he bursts into laughter.

"Somebody sure woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, huh?" he giggled, and I laugh too because it's impossible to not laugh when Phil is laughing. His laugh sounds like what fireworks look like.

Phil leads me to the car, opening my door for me and giving me a soft smile as he closes it behind me, climbing in his own side and buckling up.

"Let's go."

Phil reaches across the middle console and grabs my hand, twisting our fingers together, and I give him a big smile, bringing our intertwined hands up to my mouth and kissing his hand, laughing when his cheeks go pink.

We drive for what seems like forever, passing by dry fields and dark evergreens, and I stare out the window, watching them bleed into the gray sky.

Phil doesn't say anything, but I can feel his excitement and happiness bubbling in the air, and I find myself growing more and more curious.

"Are you taking me to an abandoned field in the middle of nowhere so you can kill me and dump my body?"

"Definitely," he says, his eyes sparkling, still trained in concentration on the road before us.

"Pleeeeease, Phil? Tell me?"

I lean on the dash of the car, resting my chin in my hands and looking up at him.

"No, shush, I'm not telling you," he says, lips twisted in a smile. I pout.

"I'll watch a hundred movies with you if you tell me."

"Although that offer is tempting, I'm gonna have to say no, because we're here now." he says, parking the car and finally turning to me, smiling. I sit up and look out the window, crinkling my eyebrows in confusion.

"I don't understand," I say, but Phil just smiles again and hops out of the car.

"Come'on!" he shouts over the wind, and I pull myself out of the car and let Phil take my hand as we start walking.

"Phil, what are we doing?"

As we enter the forest, the wind immediately quiets as the pine soaks it up.

He just laughs and pulls me along, and ten minutes later I am still not sure what we're doing here.

Then we enter a beautiful clearing, with soaring pines making a soft ceiling, tiny gold curls of sunlight slipping through and I know.

"It's beautiful, Phil,"

He smiles.

"It's my thinking spot."

I lean my head on his shoulder.

"It's a nice thinking spot."

"I think so too."

He sits on the ground and pats the spot next to him, and we lie there like that for the rest of the night.

There is no time here. Only Phil.

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